


Good Omens Drabbles

by chamaenerion



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Angst, Communication, Drabble Collection, First Kiss, Flirting, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Love Confessions, M/M, POV Aziraphale (Good Omens), POV Crowley (Good Omens), Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2019-08-31
Packaged: 2020-09-01 18:37:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 2,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20262688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chamaenerion/pseuds/chamaenerion
Summary: A collection of drabbles from prompts on tumblr (pluckydean.tumblr.com).





	1. “I can’t just go back to pretending you mean nothing to me.”

**Author's Note:**

> prompt 196. “I can’t just go back to pretending you mean nothing to me.” from [this list](https://pluckydean.tumblr.com/post/187007515539/send-me-a-pairing-and-a-number-and-ill-write-you/)

“I can’t just go back to pretending you mean nothing to me.”

Aziraphale looks to him with wide eyes. “My dear boy, I hardly think that now is-”

“No,” Crowley says. He wants to scream. “Now is the perfect time. I’m not going to face an eternity without some answers.”

Silence falls between them as Aziraphale wrings his hands together.

Crowley softens. “I’ll go as slow as you’d like, angel, I always have.” He holds out a hand with half a hope that Aziraphale might take it. “I just need to know that we’re moving in the same direction.”

Aziraphale reaches out. Their fingers brush together. It’s all the answer he needs.


	2. “I’m about 85% sure this is gonna work."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt 174. “I’m about 85% sure this is gonna work. Okay it’s more like 35% but I’m trying to be optimistic.” from this list

“I’m about 85% sure this is gonna work. Okay it’s more like 35% but I’m trying to be optimistic.” Crowley waves him closer.

Aziraphale gives him a dubious look.

“Nng, look, what have we got to lose?” He holds out his hand. “Agnes Nutter said to choose our faces-”

“It could be metaphorical,” Aziraphale argues. “We did choose our own side, after all. Maybe that’s enough-”

“To goad them into wiping us from existence? I think I’ll go with a more literal explanation, angel.” He wiggles his fingers.

“Oh, alright then.”

Aziraphale’s entire being pours into him like melted butter and Crowley shivers as his cold blood goes warm for the first time in millennia. Just his luck that Aziraphale feels like home.


	3. “I’m always flirting with you. Keep up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt 172. “I’m always flirting with you. Keep up.” from this list

“I’m always flirting with you. Keep up.” Aziraphale makes this announcement at an otherwise completely ordinary lunch at the Ritz.

Lunch date, Crowley’s brain supplies helpfully before it sort of… shuts down. “Wuh,” he says, “nrgh?”

Aziraphale actually has the gall to smirk at him. “Haven’t you noticed, dear? You always have played along so sweetly.”

He maintains direct eye contact with Crowley when he licks the last bit of custard from his spoon, the bastard. Crowley falls in love all over again. He should have the hang of this by now, but Aziraphale continues to surprise him.

“Go on, then,” he says, hoping it doesn’t sound like the desperate plea it is.

Aziraphale’s cheeks flush pleasantly and his body wiggles as if he’s gearing up for the flirtation to end all flirtations. “What do you think of getting another order of creme brulee… to go?”


	4. “I wasn’t the one who walked away from us. You were.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt 194. “I wasn’t the one who walked away from us. You were.” from this list

“I wasn’t the one who walked away from us. You were.”

Aziraphale’s words sting like a slap to the face. So much for their celebratory lunch at the Ritz. The world has been saved, the world has been toasted, now would be the time for Crowley’s world to crumble. Naturally.

“That’s not fair,” Crowley says. “I came back.”

“Only to leave again.” Aziraphale sighs. “What assurances do I have that you won’t leave again if things become complicated?”

This would be easier, Crowley thinks, if Aziraphale’s voice was as harsh as his words. His resigned tone breaks Crowley’s heart. It’s fitting, he supposes, now that he knows he broke Aziraphale’s heart first.

“I won’t leave you,” Crowley promises, desperate and aching. “I didn’t leave you, angel, I couldn’t. All I wanted was to run away with you, somewhere we could be safe.”

“You were scared.”

Hidden behind dark lenses, Crowley’s eyes burn. “Yes.”

“So was I,” Aziraphale says, “and I was alone. I know I share the blame, and I’m sorry I pushed you away.” His lips almost tilt into a smile. “I do that sometimes… or I used to.”

Crowley dares to feel hope. “I’m sorry,” he says, but that’s not what he means so he tries again, “I’m in love with you.”

“Oh, my dear, I know.” His smile goes straight to Crowley’s heart and stays there, nestled safely among a million other smiles and glances and gentle words.

“I won’t run anymore,” Crowley says, and he prays to someone that it will be enough.

“Run all you like.” Aziraphale’s hand crosses the table to take his. “I’m quite ready to keep up with you, now.”


	5. “If we lose, then we lose. But at least we’ll lose together.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt 155. “If we lose, then we lose. But at least we’ll lose together.” from this list

“If we lose, then we lose. But at least we’ll lose together.”

Aziraphale rolled his eyes at Crowley and adjusted his grip on the paintball gun Adam had shoved into his hands a few minutes ago. “No need to be quite so melodramatic, my dear. They’re eleven. It shouldn’t be that hard to win.”

He would come to find that he was wrong on both counts: firstly, not everyone on the opposing team was eleven since Anathema had joined their battle, and secondly, it was a massacre.

Crowley had convinced him to change his clothes and he’d scoffed at the suggestion, but now when he looked down at the kaleidoscope of paint that covered his sleeves and vest he was very grateful.

Not one of Aziraphale’s paintballs had found its mark. He began to suspect foul play.

“You were saying?” Crowley said smugly even as he was panting and ducking for cover behind a bench.

“Oh, do shut up.”


	6. things you said that i wasn’t meant to hear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "things you said that i wasn’t meant to hear" prompted from [this tumblr post](https://pluckydean.tumblr.com/post/187124539174/send-me-a-ship-and-one-of-these-and-ill-write-a/)
> 
> lyrics from "pale blue eyes" by the velvet underground, and "you're my best friend" by queen

Crowley doesn’t think Aziraphale knows what he’s saying with his music, but Aziraphale _knows_. He may not be all too familiar with the artist, but when lyrics fill the intimate space inside the Bentley, drifting between them, encircling them, Aziraphale hears every unspoken word.

He doesn’t mention it, let’s Crowley keep his little secrets.

The vast majority are Queen songs, ones Aziraphale has grown fond of over the years, and he knows which songs Crowley won’t play. Curious, Aziraphale bought a few Queen albums sometime in the 90′s to listen to these skipped songs all the way through. It was rather revealing.

It’s rare enough that Crowley replaces the other discs in the Bentley once they’ve made The Change. But here they are, a few months after the averted Apocalypse, driving to Lower Tadfield and a tune Aziraphale hasn’t heard before fills the car.

_“Sometimes I feel so happy  
Sometimes I feel so sad”_

Crowley’s thumb taps against the wheel along with the song for a moment before he reaches for the radio dial, presumably to change the song.

“Oh, my dear,” Aziraphale asks him suddenly, “do you think we should have brought pudding?”

Crowley turns to look at him, radio forgotten, and Aziraphale keeps him distracted while he tries to listen to the words Crowley wanted to hide from him.

_“Thought of you as my mountaintop_  
_Thought of you as my peak_  
_Thought of you as everything_  
_I’ve had, but couldn’t keep_  
_I’ve had, but couldn’t keep”_

I’m already yours, Aziraphale thinks desperately, the words caught in his throat. Perhaps he’ll take a page out of Crowley’s book and let a song speak for him.

He asks Crowley if he can change the music and Crowley waves a hand at the glove box.

Aziraphale inserts his chosen disc and watches Crowley’s hands tighten on the steering wheel.

_“I’ve been with you such a long time_  
_You’re my sunshine and I want you to know_  
_That my feelings are true_  
_I really love you”_

Crowley steals a glance at him past the top of his sunglasses, and Aziraphale smiles softly. He drops his hand into the space between them, palm up, and wiggles his fingers. Crowley takes it almost immediately, and they listen to the music as it plays on and on without interruption.


	7. things you said over the phone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "things you said over the phone" prompted from [this tumblr post](https://pluckydean.tumblr.com/post/187124539174/send-me-a-ship-and-one-of-these-and-ill-write-a/)

“Hello?”

“You really should answer with the name of your shop. What if I’d been a customer?”

“If someone doesn’t know what phone number they’ve dialed that can hardly be my fault.”

“Ah, yeah, point.”

“How was the visit to the National Gallery?”

“How do you _think_? What a ridiculous place to take a six year old. We mostly left Harriet to her friends and caused mayhem in the gift shop.”

“Oh dear.”

“Warlock bought you something, you know. Or well, he, ah, had me buy something. For you. From him.”

“Oh! What a kind gesture. What is it?”

“Well, I tried to talk him into a gag gift but he insisted on a bookmark.”

“A bookmark?”

“It has Van Gogh’s sunflowers on it.”

“How wonderful!”

“Yeah, yeah, flowers for his gardener. Bit on the nose.”

“Oh, hush, it’s sweet.”

“I’ll have to do something about that.”

“Did he get you something as well?”

“That’s hardly- completely besides the point! _Anyway_, it’s… getting late.”

“Mm, yes. Rather.”

“S’pose I’ll see you at the house tomorrow?”

“You will. I’ll look after Warlock in the morning, if the weather holds out.”

“Does look like rain. Alright, goodnight, angel.”

“Sleep well, my dear.”


	8. "Please, don't leave."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Please, don't leave." prompted from [this list](https://pluckydean.tumblr.com/post/187327678604/send-me-a-pairing-and-a-number-and-ill-write-you/) on tumblr.

“Please, don’t leave,” Aziraphale says. He stops Crowley with a gentle hand on his arm.

_I can’t bear to be away from you._

_I’m not quite ready to be alone._

_Stay, stay, stay._

The words that leave his mouth are safe, familiar, not nearly enough: “Would you like to come in for a drink?”

“Sure, angel,” Crowley says. He cocks his head at Aziraphale like he’s trying to read his thoughts.

Aziraphale shivers, turns to open the shop’s door, and Crowley follows him inside.

They settle onto the couch with a bottle of fine wine and Aziraphale’s fingers twitch. His eyes fall to Crowley’s thin fingers on the stem of his glass and they rise to Crowley’s lips where they press against the rim to sip.

He searches for an excuse, any reason to keep his thoughts in check- has a hundred or so reliable standbys that have served him well over the millennia… but he can’t muster even one.

There’s nothing stopping Aziraphale from closing the distance between them, for taking Crowley’s face into his hands and tasting the wine on his lips. Not anymore. Nothing but _himself_.

Crowley notices him looking.

Aziraphale should look away. Shouldn’t he?

“Angel?”

“I would like to kiss you.” Aziraphale wonders how his voice can sound so calm when there’s a storm raging in his chest.

Crowley’s mouth opens and closes silently.

Aziraphale gently takes Crowley’s wine glass and sets it on the table next to his. Then he reaches up and slides his palm against Crowley’s cheek. The feel of Crowley leaning into his touch is indescribable. He taps one finger lightly against his sunglasses. “May I?”

Crowley dips his head in a nod, and Aziraphale removes the frames to find that his eyes are closed.

He kisses Crowley’s forehead, gently brushes his lips against each eyelid in turn, and then pulls away.

Crowley leans forward blindly, seeking more kisses, but Aziraphale simply rubs his thumb over one sharp cheekbone.

“Crowley.”

“Nng.” Crowley shakes his head, leans closer.

“My dear, I want to see you,” Aziraphale pouts. Crowley usually lets him have his way.

But Crowley shakes his head again and turns his face away until Aziraphale’s hand drops.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” Crowley whispers. He barely glances at Aziraphale from the corner of his eye.

_Are you sure I’m what you want?_ Aziraphale reads between the lines.

“Every part of you,” he says without hesitation. “The bad and the good. I want you, all of you.” _Please, don’t leave_, he thinks desperately, _don’t ever leave me again_.

Crowley’s eyes bore into his, finally, but they’re wild with fear.

“I can wait for you,” Crowley pleads, “if you change your mind. It doesn’t have to be all or nothing, I’ll take anything, angel, just don’t… don’t…”

“Crowley.” Aziraphale’s heart breaks.

Crowley’s hands come up to cradle his face. “Ask me to stay.”

“Please,” Aziraphale says, and releases a word he’s longed to use for an eternity, “stay.”

Crowley leans in to seal it with a kiss.


	9. "I've seen the way you look at me"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I've seen the way you look at me when you think I don't notice." prompted from [this list](https://pluckydean.tumblr.com/post/187327678604/send-me-a-pairing-and-a-number-and-ill-write-you/) on tumblr.

“I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice.”

“And how’s that, my dear?” Aziraphale asks.

“It’s exactly the way you looked at that cake when the server brought it to the table.”

Aziraphale hums and slides his tongue across the prongs of his fork even though there is no more frosting there to taste. He glances at Crowley, who has turned a delicious shade of pink, and says, “I have no idea what you mean.”

It’s been like this between them for a few weeks now, ever since the not-Apocalypse, and Aziraphale is thoroughly enjoying the playful banter now that he has no reason to restrain himself. He enjoys the frequent soft touches and gentle kisses even more so.

“Though if it’s at all similar to the way you’ve been watching me, I can understand how it’s made you so flustered.”

Crowley chokes a little on nothing but air, but eventually says, “Right. Maybe I need a closer look. Just- just to be sure.”

Aziraphale sets down his fork and gives Crowley his full attention. “Was it something,” he says, eyes trained on Crowley’s mouth, “like this?” And he licks his own lips just to see Crowley shiver.

“Could’ve been.” Crowley leans closer, perched precariously on the edge of his chair.

Aziraphale kisses him, light and sweet, and when he pulls back Crowley tries to follow. He teeters off balance for a second and has to grip the edge of the table to steady himself.

Aziraphale hides his smile with another bite of cake.


End file.
